


Unwanted

by Agib



Series: Febuwhump 2020 [17]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Foster Care, Homeless Peter Parker, Homelessness, Kid Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and if what he wants is to subtly take care of a random kid who's clearly living on the streets?, then damn he's gonna do just that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22857052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agib/pseuds/Agib
Summary: Peter blinks, watching Tony freaking Stark climbing into a car and giving him a casual salute.He glances down at his hand, and then beneath it where Sandwich is panting happily.“Holy crap,” he says quietly in disbelief.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619311
Comments: 14
Kudos: 545
Collections: ellie marvel fics - read, marvel fics that are marvelous





	Unwanted

**Author's Note:**

> W A W A W A W A I DO WHAT I WANNA
> 
> but sorry it's so short :/ :) <:)

It wasn’t the fact that nobody wanted him – _well, that’s exactly what it was_ – it was the fact that in exchange for food, shelter and clothing, he had to sacrifice a large portion of his dignity.

After three months in a group home, a honest to God living nightmare when it came to having privacy, there was finally a family that put their hand up and said _that’s a kid we’d love to have._

Peter felt stupid really, he knew logically that majority of people who were willing to adopt an already half-raised kid were the ones who needed the money, and not the ones looking for a new family member. You see, adopting a baby was easy because it was wanted, you get to take care of it, raise it, everything. With a teenager, they already understood you weren’t a parent, they were self-sufficient enough to not need caring for, and therefore didn’t unintendedly bond with you through the motions you go through keeping it safe.

In other words, you house a teenager and get to collect money from the government. No relationship with them is needed.

And that’s what Peter’s problem was. He was very clearly not wanted. If the family was given the option of retaining the money and not having him around, they’d lunge on it faster than anything you’d ever see.

So yeah, the issue was the fact that nobody really wanted him.

\----

The street was a much better option, he got privacy, the foster family got the money and kept quiet about the fact that he had run away. It was a win-win. Well, a real win-win would be if someone who wanted a teenager adopted him and cared for him, but that resembled a dream more than a realistic win-win.

“Hey,” he murmured, crouching down into a squat and carefully keeping the already torn knees of his jeans off the dirty alleyway concrete. “C’mere, good boy,” he stretched out a handful of ham, reaching to scratch behind the ears of a shaggy dog he had named Sandwich. “You like that, huh?” He cooed, letting the dog plonk itself at his feet and lap at the ham as he idly scratched it’s belly.

Peter grinned, wide and toothy for a homeless kid. Sandwich keened, rolling across the floor and nudging his knees until he finally sat himself down with a huff.

The dog didn’t have fleas, and it was warm, friendly, smelled faintly of garbage but hey – didn’t everyone else on the street?

Peter tucked himself into the side of the corner, gladly occupying the quiet alley with Sandwich’s head perched in his lap.

He snagged a solid six hours of rest that evening, which was better than last Thursday in which he was woken up after three by the cold spray of a hose, curtesy of the dodgy electronic store owner.

\----

Tony stared unhappily out of the passenger window, tapping his fingers against the armrest and groaning every time Happy swore at passing cars that were skipping by the traffic flow.

“Can you pull yourself together, I’d rather be here than at the meeting,” he pointed out. Happy frowned, closing his mouth with a snap. “I need a coffee though, that would be lovely.” Tony shifted in his seat, reaching for his card. “Remind me to somehow fit an expresso machine on the dashboard one day,” he called, slipping out of the car.

“I’ll park up by the laundromat if the traffic moves at all,” Happy said blandly. He used to yell when Tony ran off out of the car for no good reason, but everybody was a lot less taught now that he had the suit only one button press away.

He glanced up at the various menu’s he strode by, only pausing when he heard the tell-tale grinding of a coffee machine.

The woman behind the counter had bags under her eyes to match his, but she was friendly enough. It only look three minutes before he had a cup in his hands. The line of cars had barely moved, he could still see the same bright arrangement of road blockers from across the coffee shop.

“Sandwich!”

He turned, expecting the woman at the counter to be yelling at another customer who must’ve left their sandwich, but nobody else had reacted. He took a long pull of his drink, wincing at the heat before turning back around to begin the short walk to the laundromat.

Something short and excited bowled into his ankles, making loud noises as it scrabbled at his feet. He looked down incredulously, making eye contact with a dog. It was the height of his knees, slightly dirty looking but incredibly energetic for something so small.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to stop him, but he doesn’t even know how to sit yet –”

“It’s alright,” he answered without looking away from the dog. It didn’t have a collar, but it stilled itself when the figure that had just spoken leaned down to the dog’s level. “I told you no running,” the figure – a boy – reprimanded. The dog hung it’s tongue out, watching the boy as Tony took him in.

He was short, probably about fourteen, maybe fifteen at the oldest, covered in clothing that was worn and slightly torn in places. He had long curly hair the same colour of the dog’s and presented a large smile on his pink face when he looked up. “Sorry again, I’m glad he didn’t knock you over.” The boy stood, keeping one hand on the dog’s head as he held out his hand to Tony. “I’m Peter – Peter Parker.”

Tony smiled back, pushing his sunglasses off his face and swapping the coffee cup to his opposite hand to shake. The kid went redder, pulling back for a moment as he stared. “Are you…” he squinted, blinking up at Tony obviously before grinning again, wider this time. “Tony Stark,” he whispered. “I uh, I’m a really big fan…”

“Thanks, kid,” Tony replied easily, dropping the handshake when Peter did. “You live around here?” He was casual, trying incredibly hard not to seem like he was already perfectly aware of the fact that this kid lived on the street as opposed to inside an actual house.

“Y – yeah, something like that.” Unconfident, dismissive and vaguely embarrassed. It was obvious, painfully so.

“Tell me, what’re you a fan of?” Tony was just trying to drag the conversation out at this point, his mind was reeling and he needed to figure out what to do with this homeless boy wandering around the streets of New York where he could very easily get hurt or go missing without anyone being the wiser.

He didn’t expect to stand there for ten minutes listening to a teenage boy ramble about some of the most technical and hard-to-grasp product designs and tech improvements he had made over the past ten years.

A genius, probably living in no more than a cardboard box.

“You know what you’re talking about,” he says after a moment in which the kid pauses to take a breath.

“I – heh, yeah. I do. I’m really into all the tech you design.” Tony quirks one brow, crossing his arm over his torso to rifle around inside his pocket for a pen. Peter looks like he’s biting back a squeak when Tony pulls one of his hands forward and flips it palm side up.

“The company’s having an internship reviewal process at the tower then,” he points at the date and time he’d just scrawled across the boy’s palm. “You don’t need anything, but you should stop by. I could use a brain like yours, God knows they’re rare.”

Peter blinks, watching Tony freaking Stark climbing into a car and giving him a casual salute.

He glances down at his hand, and then beneath it where Sandwich is panting happily.

“Holy crap,” he says quietly in disbelief.

**Author's Note:**

> Give @spidersonangst @febufluff-whump (on Tumblr) all the credit, the only reason this is happening this month is because of them!


End file.
